Okay. Now that we've got our little competition settled, it's time to move on to some more interesting topics.

My life, for instance. Or just me.

Let me make it clear now: I promise you Prongs will not be making any appearances in this chapter – not if I can help it anyway – because, my dear fans, you're right: he's very, very distracting. I have already wasted two chapters of my precious autobiography just to humour him, it's really more than enough.

So, it's finally time to go back to where we left off concerning this wonderful life of mine: that is to say Hogwarts.

I decided to cover, in this chapter at least, only my very first year. It was rather eventful, especially towards the beginning of the year, and thus cannot be squashed in with six more years in one teensy small chapter.

Now, before I drowse off with one of my memories, let me remind you what was going on at the moment: I had only just finished Bullpustule (yes, the name is still hideous), had returned for the summer to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and was now ready to embark the Hogwarts Express to begin the most amazing journey (and I don't mean it just literally) of my life, about to transform from the distinguished-looking eleven-year-old I was to the outspoken, brilliant, incredibly handsome and impossibly charming wizard I am now.

God, I'm poetic.

FLASHBACK

"Alright, Sirius," my mother said imperiously, staring down at me as she fumbled with the collar of my shirt. "Now, I want you to behave yourself. I know the train ride is going to seem endless, but think that this will be the last time you'll ever have to mingle with such riffraff, honey."

I stared at her disgustedly as she spoke this last word. 'Honey'? She'd never called me anything other than 'Sirius' or 'Disgrace' my entire life, and now, all of a sudden, I'm 'Honey'? Could maybe the fact that we were surrounded by some of the most important wizarding families have anything to do with her change of attitude towards me?

"Have you heard anything that I've just said, Sirius?" she asked, and I could hear a tingle of rage in her voice as she discovered my not paying attention.

"Yes, mother," I said dully.

"Good. Now, during the trip, I want you to stick to Narcissa and Bellatrix, okay? I know how you have certain tendencies to, well, wander off on your own in search of…" she trailed off, not daring to speak the word she hated so much.

"Yes?" I asked, loving to see her squirm. She was now facing one of the biggest dilemmas of her mundane little life: if she said 'Muggleborn' – which, of course, I was sure she would rather cut her tongue off than say – she would have gone against everything she'd ever taught me. Yet saying 'Mudblood' (which was the only word I'd ever heard her call them) would have been quite unfitting for a woman of her social status: despite the fact that that was how every 'respectable' pureblood family referred to them, it was still a rather impolite word.

"Oh, you know," she said, resolving her little predicament by raising her eyebrows significantly. "Just stick to your cousins. I'll have Narcissa report me how you behave, and I strongly suggest she tells me you've been a good boy," she finished darkly, glaring at me as if to say 'or else'.

Referring to me as a 'good boy' as long as I stuck to my Muggle-hexing cousins sounded a bit oxymoronic to me, but hey. I nodded and headed toward the train.

"Sirius!" she called back. "Aren't you going to give your mother a goodbye kiss? I'm not going to be seeing you for the next three months!"

Okay, this was seriously starting to freak me out. A kiss? I don't think she'd ever even kissed my dad, and considering Regulus and I exist, that is saying something.

But, as obedient as a tame puppy, I trudged back to her and fulfilled my sonly duties. My father, who hadn't spoken a word since we'd arrived at the station, stiffly shook my hand (a little more strongly than normal, actually… I wasn't able to hold my wand for the next hour or so), willing me to behave myself.

Finally, after a quick goodbye to my brother as well, I boarded the train, ready to embark on a new life.

The first person I met on the train was none other than sandy-haired Voice of Reason – that is to say Moony. He was sitting in a quiet compartment, reading a Muggle book, surrounded by a fidgety kid – Wormtail, obviously – and a third year girl, who seemed to be finishing an essay.

You didn't seriously think I was actually going to stick to Cissy and Bella, did you? I mean, Narcissa's okay, let aside the fact that she screws Lucius Malfoy and that she thinks Muggle-hunting should be made legal. But Bellatrix? She's way too scary… I mean, I'm a Gryffindor and all (actually, I wasn't one at the time, so I'm excused), but even I'm not that thick.

So, of course, once onboard, I began strolling around, looking for an empty compartment. I figured I was already going to be spending the next seven years of my life with all those Slytherin wanna-be's, so I decided I was going to concede myself the luxury of an uneventful trip.

Even if that involved breaking my mother's rules.

Something I actually quite enjoyed.

Anyone surprised by this? Anyone at all?

I thought so. Anyway, back to Moony. My first conversation with Moony was actually quite enlightening (and embarrassing at the same time) for me: I, who had, up till that moment, been told of Muggles as almost primates, had finally come to understand that they were hardly any different from us: for instance, they, too, wrote books.

And to think I didn't even know they could read!

I grew immediately comfortable around Remus: he was the only person I'd met that day who didn't treat me differently once he'd found out what my last name was.

See, while on one hand a kid like Peter – cowardly – or any other rich and spoiled pureblood tried at once to get in my favours (like that was going to happen anytime soon!... well, apart from Peter, anyway), a kid like Prongs, who had grown up his whole life with his father (an Auror) telling him of all the murderous things the Blacks had done to Muggles, wasn't nearly as complaisant.

Did I just say complaisant? Yes, I have. This means you, my readers, have only just witnessed the biggest euphemism in the history of… well… in the history of euphemisms!

See, you all probably think that just because Prongs is now my bestest best friend in the world it means that when the two of us met, on that fateful first day of school, we immediately hit it off and became buddies right from the start.

WRONG! Totally, completely and utterly mistaken.

Your beloved Prongs, the arrogant jerk who turns into the mildest lamb whenever Evans is concerned, was actually an idiotic, conceited, prejudiced wrench!

As soon as I was – much to my and the whole world's great surprise – sorted into Gryffindor, James decided it was his duty to make my whole existence a living hell.

And I'm not just talking pranks here. He was offensive, cruel, harsh, and he practically managed to turn the whole Gryffindor House – heck, who am I kidding? The whole school - against me, ruining my social life and reputation for no reason!

Metaphorically speaking, he was just about as bad as my folks. See, he hated me for what I represented: I was the richest, most spoilt kid in school, who came from the most evil house that ever walked this planet… the stereotypical Slytherin, which a stereotypical Gryffindor like Prongs loathed with all his strength.

But how could I point out to him that I wasn't, in fact, a Slytherin? I was just a kid who was born in the wrong family to the world, and grew up with the wrong ideals to his family. And who now wasn't accepted by either.

It took fights, fists, bloody noses, a dare in the Forbidden Forest, and a seemingly endless detention to finally show James what I was made of. But once he did, it was like we'd always been best friends. We just clicked, you know? We were two totally different people, coming from totally different backgrounds, yet who believed in the same principles and – no mean feat, trust me – who could actually put up with each other for days at a time.

END OF FLASHBACK

God. You know, I was thinking… James was, like, really really awful with me at the time… how could I have forgiven him that easily?

I'm just too nice.

And he owes me big time.

I'm going to ask him to buy me some ice cream… that way we'll be even.

Cool.

As a matter of fact, I was getting kind of hungry… yes, ice-cream hungry, you dirty minds! I'd better go downstairs to see if there's still something in the fridge.

"PADFOOT!"

I can't believe this. This is James calling me.

I swear, my beloved readers, I'd told him not to importune me while I was working away at my autobiography, because I know how distracting he is. I can't believe how persistent he can be!

"Yes, Prongsie?" I ask sweetly. I just hope he makes it quick.

He pops his head in my room. I can't help noticing a malicious smirk on his face. This worries me greatly.

"There's someone down in the fireplace for you, Casanova," he says.

I don't like the sound of his voice, but I make my way downstairs anyway. If it's another one of my fans from Japan flooing for an autograph, I swear I'm closing up our chimney.

James's glances, however, make me uneasy. He wouldn't be that gleeful if it were something promising for me. I can only assume this is bad.

As I step into the living room, I know just how bad is bad. Staring at me from the fireplace, is none other than that monster of Kerry Abbott. Why would she floo me?

Upon hearing Prongs's silent fit of laughter beside me, the pieces of the puzzle start coming together. She wouldn't Floo me, unless…

"Hi, Kerry," I say charmingly. "What can I do for ya?"

"Well, Siri, darling," she replies, her nasal voice making the hairs on the back of my neck stand suddenly, "I think you know what I want from you. Only takin' wha's rightfully mine, I am."

My jaw drops to the floor as I finally understand what she wants. "Um, Kerry, I… I really don't know what to say…"

James grins at me. "Movies or a burger?" he asks slyly.

"I was thinking tonight, Siri, dear," continues Kerry. Oh, and by the way, if there's one thing I hate it's when people call me 'Siri'. Just so you know how hard it was to keep myself from imploding. "I would have called ya sooner, luv, but I only just had my leg replaced."

"How… convenient," I mutter. "Well, actually, Kerry, I have some news. See, I- well, I came down with the flu, so I really can't go out right now…"

"Oh, that's right," says Prongs, nodding his head soberly. "Well, here's the idea! Kerry, why don't you come over with some of your famous chicken soup and cheer up the guy's spirits?"

I fulminate him with the most murderous look I can manage. He falters for a moment, before putting back his radiant smile.

"Uh, I, um, I don't think that's a very good idea, actually… I mean, I'm very contagious…" I stammer.

"Nonsense," says Kerry, grinning. Only now do I notice she even has four teeth missing. "I'll be right over." And she disappears, just like that.

I round on James. "What-the-HELL-was-THAT-about?!"

"Don't take it out on me, loverboy. You're the one who's got his way with the ladies… moreover, you're the one who promised all the girls who'd vote for you a date with you… I'm only making sure you respect your part of the bargain, that's all," he replies calmly.

"Yeah, but ABBOTT?!" I scream.

"I know… she was the only one ready to perpetrate her cause. Apparently, all your other adoring fans had surrendered to the fact that you are now happily engaged and thus are perfectly content with adoring you from afar," he says, shaking his head disbelievingly. "Talk about nut-cases."

"Talk about smart girls!" I reply. I still glare at him. "And don't think I don't know why you're doing this… You're still jealous that I'm Hogwarts Number One Hottie and you're not!" I finish mockingly.

His calm, smiling face worries me greatly. "Laugh all you want, Padfoot." He grins. "Oh, and just so you know: Lily'll be home any moment now with the groceries. And guess what? Helen's coming for lunch, too. I wonder how lenient she'll be with you when she finds out you sold yourself for a stupid title…"

I can just feel the colour draining from my face. "You—you—"

"Don't take it personally, Padfoot," he chuckles. "You're still my best man… no residual anger, no nothing… I just… well… let's say I love to see you squirm…"

And with that, he leaves the room with this scary, evil cackle (you know the one I mean… the one that goes MWAHHAHAHAHA), and, before I know it, there's someone at the door… and whoever it is, whichever way I look at it, I know it's going to be my very worst nightmare.

A/N: Sorry sorry sorry if I've kept you so long without an update!! Please don't kill me!!
By the way, whoever's interested in reading the whole story behind this chapter's memory (Sirius's first day at Hogwarts) can check out my other story, The Best Detention Ever.